


Taming a Lion's Heart

by TealPiccata



Series: Fun-canon [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Byleth continues the my unit tradition of being bad at something, Fingerpainting, Reunions, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 05:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19350091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TealPiccata/pseuds/TealPiccata
Summary: Even after five years, Byleth’s effect on Dimitri’s life continues.(Written pre-release)





	Taming a Lion's Heart

The past few days were a whirlwind for the befuddled mercenary—waking up to find her students at odds with one another, getting swept up in a number of battles immediately, and, most worrying of all, seeing that the world had moved ahead five years without her. The troops of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, led by Dimitri and his peers during their days as the Blue Lions, had been on the retreat when the Leicester Alliance had inadvertently locked itself against the army of the Adrestian Empire, as they took the opportunity to let the two factions wear themselves out temporarily while getting some distance between them. In the ensuing chaos, Byleth found herself running alongside footsoldiers, horses, and wagons, only realizing how fatigued she’d become once their forces had finally slowed down to set up camp for the night.

 

Sitting on a large stone and coughing her lungs out, her dazed eyes barely made out the campfires being lit, the troops pitching tents and tending to their mounts, and the injured being unloaded from the wagons on stretchers. Her chest heaved as she recounted recent events in her head, only to be taken out of the stir by the sound of shifting metal plates approaching her.

 

“Professor,” the brassy voice started with, causing Byleth to look up, her eyes meeting Dimitri’s remaining azure globe. The years had clearly been unkind to him, with no effort taken in the upkeep of his hair, his one eye hardened by unknown sights, and the eyepatch on the opposite side, black as the armor covering his body.

 

“Hi, Dimitri,” she cautiously greeted, unsure of what to do aside from instinctively pat at the space next to her; he remained standing. “Um, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

 

Dimitri stood in silence, seemingly thinking his next words out, discomfort settling in Byleth’s joints. Closing his one eye only briefly, he seemed to look into her harder, as if to pierce her psyche. “Five years. This all happened in five years,” he bitterly remarked, his jaw stiff. “All because you were gone.”

 

The two stared at one another until her eyes hurt, and so she turned her head away, eyes wrenching shut as the guilt washed over her. She knew there was nothing she could do about the current situation, but at the same time not being there for the students during her time at Garegg Mach Officer’s Academy, it pained her so.

 

“I’m sorry, Dimitri,” she returned, her voice heavy.

 

“You’re sorry? That’s it?”

 

“It’s all I can say.” Shame, guilt, so many things compounding to keep her from looking at him.

 

“... At least look at me.” Silence answered him, her head tightening against her shoulder as she continued to avert her gaze. Let a sigh escape through his nose, he kneeled down in front of her, looking up at her. “Please look at me, professor.”

 

She had been reluctant about turning her head towards him, every single time she saw his eye causing her to reflexively turn away until she steeled herself to meet his gaze. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to be like this.”

 

Watching his eye go half-lidded, he silently thought it over, his head making the slightest nod. “I suppose I can forgive you, for now.” Looking back up at Byleth, he watched her lips pull back slightly as a hiccup took over her shoulders, her hands coming over her eyes when the sobbing started. Before she could fall over, his arms reached out to catch her, letting the head of seafoam hair fall against the metal of his cuirass, standing slightly to raise her to her full sitting height, her head resting near his neck. Over the crackling of nearby campfires, a cry floated, carried by wisps of smoke and the night breeze.

* * *

 

“Dimitri—!” Byleth cried out, as the prince’s mount instinctively reared up on its back legs, having been startled by the bandit brandishing a nasty axe, only for a lance to be brought down into their clavicle and out from the back of the ribcage, any sign of life leaving their eyes. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, hefting up his weapon only slightly from the weight of the enemy still stuck on the spear, took a boot to the man’s chest, pushing him off of the now-bloodied blade.

 

“You ought to be more careful, professor,” he commented, his bright blue eyes meeting her aqua orbs. “Though, I suppose this encounter does disprove the weapon triangle theory.”

 

“This is no time to be debating whether theories work or not,” she returned as she took her stance again, eyeing the bandits running towards the two. “We’ve been cut off from the others, know that.”

 

“Still, it won’t stop us from wearing down this motley crew of murderers and thieves.” Spurring his stallion and holding his lance ahead of him, Dimitri began spearing recklessly approaching bandits, battle cries turning into stilted death gurgles. Catching up to the gaggle of carnage, Byleth leaped in, the force from her descent forcing her blade to slash deeply into a bandit’s back, a desperate cry escaping their mouth.

 

“They’ve got a mounted unit charging for us,” she barked, holding her sword’s point towards the moving rider. Holding their own sword above their head, the mounted unit approached and swung his blade down, almost knocking her weapon from her hands as it went away to begin another pass. “Dimitri, hold your position—Dimitri!”

 

Watching the leader of the Blue Lions charge ahead, Dimitri kept his lance pointed towards the jousting swordsman, the two passing one another without a hit, only to repeat it once more unscathed. As the third pass approached, Dimitri brought his weapon over his shoulder and threw it, the enemy rider moving his upper body to dodge it, instead being met by an armored body leaping at him, toppling both rider and horse!

 

As the two men and steed came crashing to the ground, Byleth, in sudden panic, began sprinting at the pile, watching Dimitri, his blonde hair a filthy mess from tumbling over the ground, fumble with a dagger from his belt as the fallen rider tried to get their bearings. An armored head looked up to see the Blaiddyd heir take the dagger’s point straight into the viewing slit as a blood-curdling scream reverberated from inside the helmet, only for the weight of the student to go over the weapon, his weight pushing it in further, the hilt distorting the metal around it, as the enemy froze and, subsequently, collapsed. Flopping to the side of the dead man, Dimitri looked at the approaching mercenary, not minding the crumpled armor on his arms and legs digging into his body, a dumb smile taking his features.

* * *

 

After having the armor on his body pried off along with a scolding, Dimitri watched Byleth enter the tent once more, carrying a crate in her arms and dropping it with a deafening clanging. Watching her dust her hands off as a satisfied smile graced her features, she looked up at the startled young man. “It’s really a shame you’ve ruined those custom-made vambraces and greaves of yours,” she started with, taking a pry bar to the box’s lid. “All we’ve got left is standardized armor from the academy; I’d wager it isn’t gonna fit right on you.”

 

A sigh escaped his nose as she lifted jet black armor into candlelight, angling it around as her eyes gleamed it over. “It’s definitely a bit drab, I’ll tell you that, professor,” he remarked, his arms crossed.

 

“I figured you’d say that,” she said, clacking a bottle of blue paint and brush onto the lid of the box currently on the ground. “It’s not gold leaf or anything extravagant like that, but I hope this will do.”

 

Crouching down near the box, he pulled out a black sabaton, holding it against his foot. “I think I’ll make this work, ma’am.”

* * *

 

When Byleth awoke, she found herself in a tent, having been tucked into a sleeping roll. Candlelight bounced off of the canvas over her head, the orange glow filling the room. She heard a hint of metal scraping, but she brushed it off.

  
‘I must’ve fallen asleep outside,’ she thought to herself as she sat up, letting the thin blanket fall to her waist. Turning her body to get out of the roll, she froze in place, her eyes locked at the source of the noise she was ready to write off. ‘D-Dimitri?!’

 

At a desk without his armor, Byleth watched Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, the prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, a man so very much changed after five years, only in trousers and boots revealing layer upon layer of toned muscle, dip his fingers into a jar of bright blue paint like a child, smearing lines down the length of connected metal segments, occasionally using his thumb and pinky to straighten out the empty armored limb. He was clearly focused on the task at hand, his eye scrutinizing, mainly with making sure the paint was actually curing onto the black metal.

 

The mercenary only realized she had been staring when Dimitri returned the gaze, his head silently cocking to one side as he waited for her to speak. Swallowing the lump in her throat as she stood up, she approached his desk as his eye followed her. “S-still painting your armor, I see,” she said, surprise tinging her voice.

 

“Yes, I’ve ruined another set,” he answered, his eye flicking down at said armor in his hands. “I don’t have the time to wait for a blacksmith to make ornate armor.”

 

Nodding at his answer, she watched him repeat the same motions, continuing down the brassart and onto the couter. “Do you need help with this?”

 

The question had caught him off-guard as he flicked his head up at the mercenary. “... If you want to, professor,” he answered slowly.

 

Picking up the pieces of armor that would fit over his legs, her eyes ran across every viewable surface in the tent… 

 

“Do you have a paintbrush?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she failed to locate one. His pupil moving to the corner of his eye answered her questions. Letting out a heavy sigh, she bit the fingertip of a glove, yanking it off. “I guess we’re doing this the old fashioned way…”

* * *

 

“Does… Dimitri look different to you?” Ingrid directed toward Sylvain, leaning toward the eating redhead. Despite the presence of their rediscovered instructor, the prince’s demeanor remained unchanged, and yet already something was off.

 

“Now that you mention it…” Bringing a hand up to his chin and scrutinizing their leader, his eyebrows knitted in frustration. Despite his best efforts, nothing appeared off; his stance, his gait, even the way he forked stewed meat into his mouth as he paced around the eating troops and checked up on them.

 

The two were sitting with Byleth, deciding to catch up with their professor. Ingrid mentally noted that the mercenary seemed somewhat on edge, her body leaning past the two former students and her eyes following Dimitri as he walked around.

 

As he approached Lysithea, having been recruited to their house during their days at the academy, the two childhood friends watched the magical prodigy’s eyes widen in surprise before averting them, watching her mouth an answer from where they sat. Dimitri continued his rounds, walking away as Lysithea got up, approaching the two spying companions.

 

“Did you two see it?” she asked in a hushed voice, her head brought close as if to keep her whispers contained.

 

“See what?” Ingrid asked, her eyebrow quirking out of confusion.

 

“Wait until he turns around,” she answered, the three of them watching Dimitri move away from the questioned soldier, revealing sloppy lines all down one side of his armor. They turned to look at Byleth, who held her hands over her face as her head lowered between her shoulders in embarrassment.

 

“I really, really needed a paintbrush,” she lamented, shamefully peeking an eye out from between her fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of a diversion from Hydrangeas are Forever, meant as a gift for a friend. (There's one exact detail I threw in just for you!)
> 
> I really needed a bit of refresh+practice!
> 
> Edit: I already ruined the intended surprise for them, but turns out they liked another bit better! Also, I didn't spelled "Heart" right, previously it was "Hear".


End file.
